


Hey There Demons

by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)



Series: Steter Week 2018 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, First Dates, Haunted Houses, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 04:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/twothumbsandnostakeincanon
Summary: Day Six of Steter Week, BAMF!Stiles:“Here alone?” Peter asked casually, as he indicated that he needed entrance for one and handed cash over.“Yeah,” the man next to him said. “You too?”“Not if you’ll go in with me."





	Hey There Demons

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on tumblr, this might feel familiar because of a [post that stetervault (cywscross) and I bounced back and forth](http://stetervault.tumblr.com/post/174906262674/first-your-tags-are-my-favorite-they-give-me) likeeee a month ago. Two months ago? I don't know how time works. 
> 
> Anyway, this is the short, but actually written down version of that.

Peter looked up distastefully at the hokey old haunted house. One level, peeling paint, and polyester cobwebs haphazardly strung up all over the place- it didn’t exactly inspire fear in a werewolf, but Talia wanted him here to check it out.

Her paranoia truly knew no bounds.

He honestly couldn’t blame her for that, though. After all, her paranoia was the reason Kate Argent had been caught trying to sexually manipulate Derek. Who knows what could have happened if Talia weren’t so quick to see monsters?

So no, Peter couldn’t blame her for her paranoia. He might blame her for not subjecting someone else from the pack to this particular paranoia though.

With a sigh, he trudged up to the front door of the house and entered the foyer.

There was a desk, manned by a bored looking teen dressed in a black robe and hood. A plastic scythe had clearly been chucked over in the corner, leaning at a precarious angle. The man currently being helped at the desk was smiling nervously, gaze twitching about the room.

Peter stepped up next to him, and the man startled a bit, eyes widening as he took him in.

Peter smirked. He loved it when he got that reaction. Especially when it was accompanied by obvious attraction.

“Here alone?” Peter asked casually, as he indicated that he needed entrance for one and handed cash over.

“Yeah,” the man next to him said. “You too?”

“Not if you’ll go in with me,” Peter said smoothly. Sure he had to be here to check things out, but there was no reason he couldn’t mix business with pleasure, right? It was a cheesy haunted house. Nothing was happening here except for bad special effects. Might as well see if he could get a date out of it.

A slight blush dusted the man’s cheeks.

“I’m Stiles,” he said, sticking out his hand.

“Peter.” He took Stiles’ hand, and instead of shaking it, brought it to his mouth to lay a kiss on the knuckles.

“Oh my God,” Stiles laughed incredulously. “You did not just do that. Who does that??”

“People looking to win the attention of the beautiful man at the haunted house do that,” Peter said with a grin as another blush crossed Stiles’ cheeks.

“Well, you have my attention, so I guess it worked. You wanna walk through together, then?” he asked, nodding his head toward the door that led to the rest of the house.

“It would be my pleasure,” Peter purred.

* * *

 

The third time Stiles literally jumped at nothing _before_ they even reached the hallway entrance, Peter looked at him with a little sideways grin.

“Why on earth did you come here alone if you’re so scared?”

Stiles gave a sheepish smile back.

“My buddy Scott was supposed to come with me, but he bailed at the last minute. He doesn’t think there’s anything worth seeing here, but I- AAAH!”

A ghost made of plastic sheeting swung out of an alcove to their left, and Stiles immediately leapt to Peter’s other side.

“Oooh, don’t worry,” Peter teased with a smirk. “I’ll protect you from the evil spirit.”

Stiles slapped him on the arm with an amused huff.

“Fucker. It startled me, okay?”

Peter just laughed and opened the door to the part of the house they’d actually paid to see.

It was dark, though not to Peter’s eyes. He could already see the toes of an actor waiting behind a curtain down the hall. Stiles lingered nervously on the other side of the door, so Peter reached out to grab his hand and pull him in, the door closing behind him.

“Ah, shit,” Stiles muttered vehemently under his breath. Peter really did wonder why he’d decided to come even after his friend ditched him.

Stiles gripped Peter’s hand tight and stepped closer, pressing their shoulders together.

“If I go down, you’re going down with me,” he said, finally taking a step forward.

“Gladly,” Peter purred, shoving as much innuendo into the word as possible. Stiles’ ears turned a delightful shade of pink.

They walked slowly, passing by a section of wall covered in doll heads. Stiles wrinkled his nose, but didn’t run away from it. He actually pointed to the upper left hand corner, squinting his eyes in the dark.

“I had one of those when I was a kid. Baby Tumbles Surprise. The face was weighted so it would roll forward every time you tried to make it sit. Kinda like a slinky, but a slinky that looked like a baby. Scott and I used to swing it around and hit each other with the head.” He hummed consideringly. “That might actually have something to do with why I’m an only child.”

Peter laughed, distracted enough to miss the door just past the doll heads opening and machine-produced fog spilling out. A dark shape slithered along the floor in the fog, hissing and spitting.

“SHIT!”

Stiles yelped as he jumped behind Peter, who could see at a glance that the shape was made of cotton.

“There, there,” Peter soothed. “The hooded-sweatshirt-on-a-broom-handle isn’t venomous, last I heard.”

The shape was yanked back into the room, cutting off the pre-recorded snake sounds.

Stiles cautiously peered around his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get through this goddamn nightmare,” he said fervently, reaching for Peter’s hand again and pulling him along.

A dangling shrunken head caused another scream a few feet later, and when the actor behind the curtain jumped out, Stiles literally tried to climb on top of Peter.

Not that he was complaining.

Turn after turn, Stiles’ heart rate rocketed at the slightest spooky feature. Peter truly hoped his arteries were completely clear when a chainsaw wielding actor burst through a door facing them.

Peter wouldn’t mind giving Stiles mouth to mouth at all, but preferably not like that.

He knew they were nearing the end; he could hear the sounds of the corn maze behind the house. His mind was already ten steps ahead, in the parking lot asking Stiles to dinner. He seemed like a diner guy, maybe they could go to Sue’s-

Peter stopped walking, pulling Stiles to a halt. He drew in another breath, the smell of rotting flesh hitting him hard and sudden.

“Well, fuck,” he muttered.

Peter kissed his date idea goodbye, and cursed Talia for being right about the ghoul that he could smell five steps ahead. He dropped Stiles’ hand, not looking over at his questioning glance, and watched the last door of the hallway open, the ghoul darting out suddenly.

A high pitched scream left Stiles, and Peter waited for him to run-

But he didn’t.

Worried that he’d finally had an actual heart attack, Peter glanced over, only to see Stiles covering his nose with one hand and holding a ball of glowing electricity in the other.

He chucked it at the ghoul, who managed to dodge. Stiles sighed exasperatedly, and raised both hands this time, little glowing, zipping balls of energy growing in both hands. He threw one, and when the ghoul dodged again, he threw the other one in the direction it was headed.

Peter stood motionless; claws loose at his side, extended teeth hanging from his slack jawed mouth.

The ghoul wailed as it was hit, but kept jerkily moving toward them. Stiles reached down to his ankle and pulled out- was that a _blessed knife?_

Stiles marched up to the ghoul, blowing Arabian sand in its face, rendering it immobile. Not wasting a moment, he plunged the knife into the ghoul’s chest and twisted, watching it fall to the ground as it turned to dust. There was a beat of silence, and then one sneaker covered foot nudged at the pile.

“Oh thank God that’s over,” Stiles said, cleaning the knife on his jeans and tucking it back into the sheath on his ankle. “I knew there was something fishy going on here, but I fucking _hate_ haunted houses. I still can’t believe Scott bailed on me, some Alpha he is.” He wiped the remaining grains of sand off his palms. “ _‘It’s probably nothing Stiles,’_ ” he said in a high pitched mocking tone. “Why even have a fucking spark as a best friend if you’re not going to listen to him!” he finished, throwing his hands up into the air.

He walked back to Peter, completely oblivious to his shock, and took his hand again, pulling them both toward the exit.

“I mean, obviously I can handle a single ghoul by myself, but he _knows_ I hate surprises, and that’s literally all a haunted house is! Jumpscare after jumpscare! And what if the ghoul _hadn’t_ been alone? Honestly, I was so relieved to see you there, having a werewolf with me really made this so much easier to handle, so thanks for that.”

They arrived at the exit, but when Stiles reached for the door handle, one last spider fell from the ceiling in front of his face.

“AAAGHH!!”

He pushed a palm out at it and the spider immediately lit on fire, falling to the ground.

“Shitshitshit,” Stiles said, panicky and waving a hand to put out the fire. “Oh fuck, I hope that wasn’t expensive. Let’s get out of here before they realize it was me, come on.”

He could manifest fire. Not only could he manifest fire, but he could _control_ it.

Stiles was a spark. A bad ass. An insanely powerful, incredibly skilled scaredy cat, and Peter was absolutely in love.

“Do you want to go get dinner at Sue’s?” Peter blurted out.

Stiles’ eyes lit up. “Yeah! I love the milkshakes there!”

They left the house, still hand in hand, and ventured into the night together.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. I feel like Stiles has the self awareness of a Boogara and the BDE of a Shaniac.


End file.
